Trick or Treat
by Emerald Kitten
Summary: Daryl had always hated Halloween since he was a kid but maybe this year someone can change his mind on the matter. Response to USS CARYL Drabble Prompt.


Daryl Dixon had hated Halloween ever since he was a kid. It wasn't that he had anything against getting free candy or carving pumpkins. His problem was the fact that when you came from a poor as dirt family that couldn't even afford to get you a crappy costume you learnt pretty quick that Halloween wasn't the holiday for you to be celebrating. Not that any of the holidays on the calendar where ever anything to write home about in the Dixon household but Halloween was always particularly shitty for him. The sight of the neighbourhood kids going door-to-door having fun and making noise seemed to spur his old man into finding new and inventive ways to beat the shit out of the youngest Dixon. The family that was too poor to send their own son out trick-or-treating was also too poor to give out candy to any of the other kids who came door-knocking on the 31st. Needless to say the Dixon shithole of a house got egged and TP'ed each and every year without fail.

Daryl was always the one forced to clean up the mess other kids had made. It was just another reason to hate the damn holiday.

None of the other kids in the neighbourhood knew that Mr Dixon punished his youngest son extra hard come November 1st. Even though Daryl never got the chance to participate in those stereotypical Halloween activities he watched the other kids do he still got penalized for them all the same. Daddy Dixon didn't buy candy to hand out to the trick-or-treaters but he could always afford to give his youngest son a thorough whipping without fail. His father was smart enough to know you couldn't expect to get away with beating someone else's kid for egging Casa Dixon. Instead, the asshole settled for taking his pound of flesh from Daryl. He knew he'd get away with beating his own son. No-one ever asked why the poor kid from the wrong side of the tracks was always sporting a split lip or back eye.

There was nothing to like about a day that people feigned being scared when Daryl spent every Halloween night genuinely terrified. He'd curl up under his bed and pray this would be the year his Pa miraculously ignored all the festivities and just passed out drunk on the couch instead. Every year Daryl would silently wish for the holiday to be cancelled completely. If Halloween didn't happen little Daryl wouldn't get the snot whipped out of him. But no matter how hard he prayed, how many deals he made with God, Halloween rolled around each and every year without fail.

As he got older and the beatings from his father tapered off Daryl still refused to get sucked into the candy and the tricks and the costumes and all the other crap that went with Halloween. The day held nothing but bad memories of a broken childhood for him.

Halloween just wasn't the holiday for Daryl; it never had been. Unfortunately for him every other person at the prison loved the stupid holiday time of year.

No sooner had the leaves started to change and a chill had settled into the early-evening air was it announced that the prison would be hosting a Halloween party. Daryl had snorted with derision at the idea when it'd first been brought up at a council meeting. They had more important things to deal with than blowing up balloons and throwing fucking streamers about. The idea of celebrating by hanging fake skeletons and paper bats was a joke. It you wanted scary all you needed was to look out the goddamn windows and get a view of the dead still roaming the Earth.

That shit was all the scary anyone should ever need now.

But even though Daryl didn't do Halloween he didn't stand in their way when Halloween night rolled around. He let everyone else enjoy themselves while he hunkered down in his cell, determined to act like the whole thing wasn't happening right under his nose. He had never had good luck with Halloweens in the past and he wasn't looking to expand his horizons anytime soon with the subject. Just cause his old man was dead and in the ground didn't mean the day miraculously got better in his mind. A childhood of abuse lead to lifetime of painful memories you could never forget.

Daryl had confined himself to his cell instead of joining the other members of the group outside when the party got into full swing. No-one had dared ask him to join them out there. It seemed everyone had picked up on his less-than-subtle feelings about the day they were celebrating.

The party had been going on for a while now. The sounds of the kids' laughter had filtered throughout the cellblock earlier in the evening, reminding Daryl that the prison was no longer a tomb. It was concrete sanctuary that encouraged life to grow and develop. Still looked like a prison though. All the decorations in the world wouldn't change that.

If he stained his ears he could just hear the faint sounds of Beth's voice being carried by the wind as she sung. He was almost lulled to sleep by the soothing melody when a soft tapping on the metal bars of his cell door broke through the fogy haze of his mind and wrenched him wake. The sharp sound bounced off the bare walls and echoed through the deserted block.

The first thing Daryl saw was an orange light glowing from his doorway. The hazy orb sat suspended in mid-air, floating against a wall of blackness blocking his only exit. Daryl felt the icy fingers of fear snaking down his spine as for one fleeting second he was ten again and his father was the one standing in the doorway.

The hunter clamped his eyes shut and shook his head, willing the image to go away. There was no way in hell his old man was standing there. The bastard was long dead and Daryl didn't believe in ghosts. The memory of his father haunted him every day but that was a different sort of ghost.

There was no such thing as Casper rattling chains and moaning in the middle of the night. That shit just wasn't real.

Daryl shook his head again before cracking his eyes open. It took him a moment to focus on the orange glow still illuminating his previously dark cell. He squinted, making out a toy Jack-o-Lantern attached to a woman's arm.

Raising his head from the pillow the hunter found it was Carol and not the ghost of his father that was hovering in the doorway. It figured she would be the one to seek him out. It was always Carol who watched out for him.

"Hey," she greeted, leaning casually against the doorframe. "You weren't at the party."

"Nope," he replied, dropping his head back onto his pillow. "I wasn't." He stared defiantly at underside of the bunk above him. He was not in the mood for this shit. Not tonight.

Carol stepped in to the room and placed the lantern on the floor. "Care to explain why?"

The orange light mocked him from its position down there. The symbol of the holiday bathed the walls of his cell in a warm glow, the flickering light turning the dank grey walls a pleasant orange hue. That was just fucking perfect. It was like the damn lantern was conspiring against him to prove Halloween wasn't so bad after all. Daryl knew the truth though. The day had always been shitty for him and that would never change.

He hated the sight of that fucking plastic pumpkin. He wanted to kick it out of his cell and send it flying over the railing simply for existing.

"Halloween ain't my thing," he grunted sourly, eying the stupid pumpkin as he spoke.

Carol sighed audibly, her arms coming up to fold across her chest. "You don't know that 'til you try it," she argued.

Daryl snorted, thinking back to the beatings his father used to give him over the days surrounding the fall holiday. "Tried it. Didn't take."

"Not even trick-or-treating?" The corner of her mouth turned upwards in a crooked smile as she arched a questioning eyebrow at him.

Flashbacks of watching the other kids running around the neighbourhood dressed as ghosts or vampires or cowboys filtered through his mind. Sure, the whole thing had looked like fun but fun didn't fly at the Dixon house. Fun cost money. That money was need to buy important things like booze and smokes. Giving a child a happy memory didn't rate too highly on the meter there.

He shifted uncomfortably on his bunk. He hadn't wanted to get into this with her. His past was his and his alone to bear. Carol didn't need to hear all the details of his shitty childhood. She had enough awful memories of her own without piling his on top.

"Halloween wasn't a big deal at our house," he admitted finally, his eyes darting up quickly to catch hers. "Never even been trick or treatin'," he mumbled softly. The fact that he'd missed out on such an important milestone in a kid's life was embarrassing.

Carol's gaze softened as she stared at him. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other but didn't say anything.

This was just fucking perfect. She felt sorry for him. Why the fuck did Daryl let something so personal slip anyway? The woman had a way about her though. She always got him to divulge something he wasn't planning on sharing.

"Why the Hell would anyone 'round here wanna celebrate Halloween for anyway?" Daryl demanded, sitting up and kicking petulantly at the floor beneath his feet. Anger was always a good fall back to mask his embarrassment. "Feels like we're living in a shitty horror movie most days."

Carol thought about that for a moment, her head tilting to the side as she considered his words. "Don't know if I'd say that. It's more like a high-quality cable series with a bigger-than-average budget," she offered with a smirk.

Daryl stopped his assault on the innocent floor mid-stamp and barked out a laugh. Just like that his mood went from shitty to decent. Carol seemed to have that effect on him for some reason. No-one had ever been successful at turning his moods around. No-one else made him feel better about himself like she did. Must have been a gift she had. Sassy Carol scared the shit out of him sometimes with her teasing and jokes, but he found he liked her like this. She was happier now than she had been in a long time. The smiles she always seemed to save just for him came more often now.

"Trick or treat?" Carol asked playfully, holding closed hands out in front of her body.

"What?" he asked with confusion. He'd just let it slip he'd never trick-or-treated before in his life and she was asking him that question?

She stepped closer and shook her closed palms under his nose. "Pick one," she ordered. "Trick or treat?"

"What sorta trick you got planned?" The blood rushed to his face the moment the ill-thought out question left his lips. The woman took any opportunity to tease the shit out of him and he'd just left the door wide open for her to do just that.

"You're not allowed to ask that," she chided with a warm smile.

"Treat," he answered quickly, dropping his gaze to the floor again. God only knew what tricks this woman had up her sleeve. He could handle her teasing sometimes, but her doing that in his cell when they were alone like this was almost too intimate. When she had an audience she never pushed it too far but when they were along -_completely alone-_ Carol had a habit of saying things that would make a whore blush.

Daryl kind of liked it though. He knew she never spoke to any of the other men like she did with him. That side of her was reserved just for him and her own amusement. He risked a look up at the woman towering over him.

Carol pouted, her bottom lip jutting out playfully. "That's a shame. I've got a great trick I do with handcuffs…"

"Stop," he ordered, ducking his head down into his chest. He could already feel the heat surging to his face at her teasing. Carol seemed to take particular delight in making him squirm like that. She wasn't having a good day unless she made him blush.

At least one of them was having a good day today.

The sound of her laughter echoed thought the small room. It didn't bother him though. Daryl wouldn't admit it to anyone, but he actually liked her teasing. She wasn't like that with anyone else in their family. Daryl liked that she saved that just for him. Getting a reaction out of him always made her smile. Seeing her smile had become more important to him lately. He didn't know when her happiness had become so important to him but it was.

"Happy Halloween Daryl." Carol's left hand closed over his, her other hand coming to rest lightly on his shoulder. Before he could understand what she was playing at the woman was using him for balance as she leant down and closed the distance between them.

"Trick or treat," she whispered, her breath ruffling his hair as she spoke. An involuntary shudder moved through his body at the words.

Daryl felt the soft pressure of her lips against his cheek when she pressed a light kiss to his face. His eyes drifted closed for a moment, savouring the sensation of the second kiss she had ever given him. The first kiss had felt much the same from what he remembered but the difference was this time he didn't shy away from her touch. He'd come leaps and bounds during the past year in being able to accept touches from her.

After that moment on the farm Carol had never tried to kiss him again. Daryl had just figured he hadn't done anything to warrant that sort of attention from her. He didn't understand why she didn't just get pissed with him and give up but she never did. Carol always seemed to be there for him.

Nothing Daryl did seemed to scare Carol off. He wasn't sure when it had happened but Daryl no longer felt the need to push her away when she got too close. Some days his hands actually itched to reach out and return the contact she bestowed upon him.

As soon as it had started it was over. Daryl was too distracted by the fact Carol had kissed him to notice she had silently slipped out of his cell. By the time he realized she was gone all he saw was the faint orange glow of that damn lantern of hers growing fainter as she made her retreat down the staircase.

His hand drifted up to touch the spot on his cheek that Carol's lips had grazed. It was the second time she had kissed him and Daryl felt the edge of his mouth turn up slightly at the thought.

There was something hidden in his closed palm. He hadn't noticed it before; he'd been too distracted by the sign on affection Carol had bestowed on him to even feel the tiny weight being deposited in his hand. The hunter glanced down to find a small, foil-wrapped item sitting in the middle of his palm. He glanced up towards the doorway she had excited through before dropping his gaze back to the treat she'd left. Carol must have slipped it there when she kissed him. Upon closer examination Daryl realized the foil wrapped item she'd given him a Hershey's kiss. No-one had ever given him candy for Halloween before much less a kiss. He blushed, thinking about the fact Carol was the person to do this for him.

Carol had managed to sneak two kisses to Daryl that night. The younger Dixon popped the chocolate in his mouth and savoured the sweet taste that danced across his tongue.

The expression trick-or-treat seemed ridiculous to Daryl at that moment. He hadn't need to make a choice and he received both. Yes she had tricked him into taking the candy but he was the one who ended up getting two treats out of it. One he was eating with great enjoyment. The other still tingled against his cheek. As sweet as the chocolate in his mouth was Daryl was pretty sure the second treat she'd given him was his favourite.

Halloween just became Daryl Dixon's favourite holiday.

**A/N: Thanks for reading. I was trying to get this finished in time for Halloween but stuff and things kept popping up. This was written in response to the USS CARYL Drabble Kink/Non-Kink Prompt. I chose the Halloween prompt (obviously) but I still managed to slip in a handcuffs reference. Also the prompt 'the moments leading to their first kiss' was also mine so I twisted that a bit and Daryl's first kiss from Carol was a foil-covered chocolate. Just something sweet to balance the awful memories at the start of this piece.**


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